


My Darling Dear Lover Boy

by rauqthetommo



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Big Dick Richie Tozier, Bondage, Bottom Eddie Kaspbrak, Caring Eddie Kaspbrak, Caring Richie Tozier, Coming Untouched, Domestic Fluff, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Fluffy Ending, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Gay Richie Tozier, Gooey Fluffy Nonsense, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Mentioned Myra Kaspbrak, Multi, Nicknames, One Off, One Shot, Pet Names, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-IT Chapter Two (2019), Power Bottom Eddie Kaspbrak, Restraints, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Sensitive Eddie Kaspbrak, Sensitive Richie Tozier, Service Top Richie Tozier, Shameless Smut, Soft Eddie Kaspbrak, Soft Richie Tozier, Soft sex, Tie Kink, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Top Richie Tozier, Unprotected Sex, eddie spaghetti, mentions of divorce, tied up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:40:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25756006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rauqthetommo/pseuds/rauqthetommo
Summary: Eddie loves Richie. He loves everything about him. But he could really do without the fucking nicknames.An excerpt from this work:For years, Eddie was just that; Eddie. He was Eddie to his friends (of which there were few), he was Edward at work, and he was Eddie-Bear at home with his wife.It was when he returned to Derry and reunited with the Losers (and more specifically, Richie), that the nicknames started up again.He was Eds to them, he always had been, and hearing the nickname fall from Beverly’s lips that first time in the Jade of the Orient dining room, made his stomach tingle. He’d missed his friends severely, he’d realized, and he was so happy to have them back.The onslaught of nicknames continued from there, all from Richie, evolving from Eddie, to Eds, to Eduardo, and so on and so forth. But there were even more than that.Richie immediately fell back into their old childhood game of name-calling, to which Eddie always protested and Richie, with a shit-eating grin, would crank out name after name, smiling and laughing the whole time.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 4
Kudos: 203





	My Darling Dear Lover Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Hey. I'm not dead. Turns out my job isn't opening until at least SEPTEMBER. And, on top of that, the crisis money from the government (an extra $600 a week) stopped at the end of July, meaning I'm only getting $275 (around half of what I make at work) a week until my theatre reopens.  
> But anyway. We're coming up on the one year anniversary of IT Chapter 2, and I've seen it 50 fucking times, so I wanted to get back into writing for the anniversary. Hope y'all like it. And I hope, unlike the United States, shit is getting better for you people out there and you'll be cleared to open fully soon.  
> Oh, also, I'm currently working on a chapter fic, so expect that soonish probably.

For years, Eddie was just that; Eddie. He was Eddie to his friends (of which there were few), he was Edward at work, and he was Eddie-Bear at home with his wife.

It was when he returned to Derry and reunited with the Losers (and more specifically, _Richie_ ), that the nicknames started up again.

He was Eds to them, he always had been, and hearing the nickname fall from Beverly’s lips that first time in the Jade of the Orient dining room, made his stomach tingle. He’d missed his friends severely, he’d realized, and he was so happy to have them back.

The onslaught of nicknames continued from there, all from Richie, evolving from Eddie, to Eds, to Eduardo, and so on and so forth. But there were even more than that.

Richie immediately fell back into their old childhood game of name-calling, to which Eddie always protested and Richie, with a shit-eating grin, would crank out name after name, smiling and laughing the whole time.

Some of them weren’t so bad; he didn’t really mind Eddie Spaghetti so much, but it was what stemmed from that one name that really ruffled his feathers, so to speak. Spaghetti-Man. Spaghetti-Head. Spaghetti-O.

It was obnoxious. And what was even worse than that, was Richie’s stupid reaction to it. Every time Eddie protested or got upset, Richie would just sling his arm over Eddie’s shoulders and pinch his cheeks and laugh it off.

Fucker.

And then came the nicknames that made Eddie’s stomach do acrobatics. Richie called him Cutie, he called him Doll, he occasionally busted out Eddie, My Love, or Eddie, Baby. And maybe it was the casual nature of it all that frustrated Eddie so much, how Richie could just say those things and not mean them? It rubbed Eddie the wrong way, though he wasn’t exactly sure why.

After Eddie nearly died at the hands of the fucking clown, Richie stayed with him in the hospital while he healed, falling asleep hunched over in one of those uncomfortable wooden chairs every night, chin tipped against his chest and snoring softly, and Eddie would sometimes watch him sleep, which he maintained wasn’t weird at all; it was just that Richie looked so peaceful while he was sleeping, and for once in his life he wasn’t spouting annoying crap every four seconds. It made Eddie’s heart clench to watch Richie sleep, especially because sometimes Richie would talk in his sleep, and more often than not, he’d let out a mumbled, but clear as day, “Eddie.” And it made Eddie smile.

During physical therapy one day, while Eddie was rolling his hips on a yoga ball in the stupid padded room at the hospital, Richie was sitting in his usual spot just to Eddie’s left, cheering him on, when he dropped the bombshell that he was in love with Eddie, and had been for like thirty years. “Since the day I met you, I think.” He’d said quietly. “Which was, when? You had just turned 5? So, yeah. Then.” He’d shrugged while Eddie stared at him, clearly anxious, tucked in on himself where he sat on the ground with his hands stuffed in his pockets. “Sorry.” He’d added after a minute of silence.

“Don’t be sorry,” Eddie had whispered, shaking his head. “Richie, come here.” He’d opened his arms and pulled Richie into a tight hug, holding him there on the floor while he cried. Eddie had almost cried too. He’d been grateful for Richie the whole time he’d been in recovery. When Eddie had left for Derry, Myra had told him, ‘If you walk out that door, I’m finished,’ and when Eddie told her he had to go, she’d thrown her wedding ring at him as he walked out the door. She’d served him divorce papers while he was still in the hospital, and Richie had crossed his arms over his chest and said simply, ‘What a cunt,’ causing Eddie to laugh so hard that he nearly popped a staple.

Eddie had realized in that moment, as he sat there holding his best friend, why the nicknames bothered him so much, and why he’d been so happy to have Richie there with him, and why he’d spent the last four weeks watching Richie sleep in his hospital room instead of telling him to go back to the Inn. He loved Richie. More than he loved any of his other friends. It wasn’t like the love he felt for Beverly or Mike, it was the kind of love he was supposed to have felt for Myra, but never did. It was the kind of love he’d always seen on television and in movies. The kind of love his mother warned him about. “I love you too, Richie.” Eddie had said, and Richie had cried harder, clinging to Eddie like a koala bear and sobbing into his shoulder.

When Eddie was finally released from the hospital, Richie moved him into the penthouse he’d started renting in New York, gathering all of Eddie’s belongings (of which there were very few that he actually wanted) from his and Myra’s old place and getting him settled in for his new life as a free man.

And his new life with Richie.

And if Eddie had thought the nicknames were bad before, it was multiplied by a thousand now. Richie was on a roll and clearly couldn’t be stopped, nickname wise. He threw in the classics every now and again, starting every morning with an, ‘I love you, Eds,’ and helping him with his at-home physical therapy exercises by clapping his hands and yelling, ‘Woo-hoo! Go Spaghetti!’

But that wasn’t even the worst of it. It was the simple, ‘Pass the remote, baby,’ while they were watching tv on the couch, or the ‘Do we need anything from the store, honey?’ while Richie pulled his jacket on in the doorway.

Actually, come to think of it, Eddie didn’t really mind those nicknames. They were sweet and cute, just like his Richie, but it was the over-the-top ones that made him roll his eyes. Richie called him ‘hotcakes’ and ‘baby-love’, he called him ‘pumpkin pie’ and ‘strawberry shortcake’, and he called him ‘lover boy’ and ‘sweetness.’ And as much as he loved Richie, he really could have done without the fucking nicknames.

***

“You know, you can call me ‘Eddie’, right?” Eddie asked one morning after Richie hit him with ‘Can you pass the salt, buttercup?’ “You do remember that that’s my name, right?”

Richie blinked at him, little dog-shaped salt shaker held in his hand. “Of course I do, _Eddie_.” He said pointedly, sprinkling way too much salt over his scrambled eggs. Eddie told him all the time he was going to give himself hypertension, but Richie didn’t listen.

“And you know I hate the nicknames,” Eddie sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest.

Richie wrinkled his nose. “I know that you say that you hate them.” He set the salt shaker down. “But I beg to differ, my wild honey pie.”

“That’s, like, the _worst_ Beatles song,”

“You act like you’ve never even heard Revolution 9.” Richie laughed when Eddie rolled his eyes.

“I’m a grown man, Richie. You shouldn’t be calling me ‘sugar,’” Eddie insisted.

“Would you prefer if I called you ‘my rugged power bottom’?”

“Oh my god,” Eddie dropped his elbows onto the table and buried his face in his hands.

“Is that a no?” Eddie could tell by Richie’s voice that he was smiling.

“I hate you,” Eddie mumbled.

“No, don’t say that.” Richie pouted, leaning over the table to rest his hand on Eddie’s arm. “It makes me sad.”

“You know I don’t hate you,” Eddie relented, leaning his head on his hand and gazing at Richie across the dining room table. “I love you more than anything in the world.”

Richie grinned wide, shoveling a forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth and chomping down on them. “I love you too, Spaghetti.” He said.

Eddie wrinkled his nose up. “Jesus Christ, Richie, don’t chew with your mouth open.” Eddie scolded him. “And don’t talk with your mouth full.”

“Stop trying to change me,” Richie replied, continuing to flash Eddie mouthfuls of his mostly-chewed breakfast.

“I have to go to work.” Eddie mumbled, pushing himself out of his chair and walking his half-eaten sesame seed bagel to the trash. “I’ll see you tonight.” He set his plate in the sink and looped back around to the table to press a kiss to the crown of Richie’s skull.

Richie tipped his head back and smiled softly at him, pursing his lips for a proper kiss. “Love you,” He whispered into Eddie’s mouth.

“I love you too,” Eddie assured him, pecking his lips again before turning and marching towards the door, bending down to grab his briefcase from its spot next to the shoe mat.

“Have a wonderful day, darling!” Richie called from the kitchen, making Eddie roll his eyes as he stepped out onto the porch, pulling the front door closed behind himself.

***

When Eddie returned home at 5:34, he plopped his briefcase on the ground by the front door and called out a greeting to Richie. He figured he’d probably be in the kitchen cooking, or maybe in the living room watching tv, but Eddie’s voice yielded no response, so he kicked off his work shoes on the mat and loosened his tie around his neck as he set about searching the house for his boyfriend.

Eddie eventually found Richie in his office, hunched over his computer and typing rapidly with his headphones settled over his ears. He startled when Eddie laid his hand between his shoulder blades, knocking his headphones down around his neck and turning to gaze up at him. “Jesus, Eds, you scared me.”

“I’m sorry,” Eddie leaned over to kiss him, smiling against his mouth when he heard the music playing through his headphones. He was listening to “Eddie My Love” by The Teen Queens. “Boy, you’re really taking this whole nickname thing to heart, huh?”

Richie laughed, pausing his music and shrugging his shoulders. “I just wanted to be reminded of a time when you still loved me.” Richie leaned back in his chair and exhaled dramatically. “Oh, woe is me. My boyfriend hates it when I’m sweet to him.” He covered his face with his hand and pretended to cry. “Boo hoo hoo.”

“Oh my god, you’re the most ridiculous man on this planet.” Eddie laughed, steadying his hands on Richie’s shoulders and climbing up into his lap. “Maybe even in the entire universe.”

“Why don’t you love me? When did you stop?” Richie asked, wrapping his hands around Eddie’s hips to hold him in place.

“Richie, Jesus Christ.” Eddie rolled his eyes and laughed again, exhaling heavily and leaning far forward to lay his cheek on Richie’s chest, directly over his heart. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, my dear.” Richie told him, planting kisses all along his scalp. “I’m glad you’re home.”

“What are you working on?” Eddie turned his head to look at Richie’s laptop, eyes glancing over the word document he had pulled up.

Richie shrugged, reaching over to save his work. “Just some standup shit.”

“How’s it going?”

He sighed, stroking over Eddie’s back. “It’s a slow-go, baby-love, but I think I’m headed in the right direction.”

“I’m proud of you.”

“You’re gonna make me cry.”

“For real this time?”

“How so very dare you,” Richie pinched Eddie’s tummy lightly. “Those tears were real earlier.”

Eddie swatted Richie’s hands away as he continued to pinch at him, getting ahold of his work shirt and quickly untucking it from his pants so he could work his fingers inside, pinching and tickling over Eddie’s torso. “Rich, cut it out.” Eddie laughed, trying to squirm away without actually getting up.

“Can’t hear ya, honeybun, sorry.” Richie insisted, pulling Eddie closer to him by his hips and moving to bite at his throat.

“Don’t call me that!” Eddie managed, breathless as Richie continued to tease him.

“Mmhmm,” Richie hummed, reeling Eddie in fully so he could properly latch onto his neck, sucking lightly and tracing his tongue over the shape of the new bruise.

“Not so high, Rich.” Eddie scolded, lightly slapping his chest. “I need to be able to cover it.”

“Don’t want people to know you’re taken?” Richie mumbled, corner of his glasses scratching along the underside of Eddie’s jaw as he worked a new hickey just above his collarbone. “Don’t want anyone to know that you’re my darling dear lover boy?”

“Rich,” Eddie breathed, grinding down in Richie’s lap as he felt him begin to harden underneath of him, filling up slowly in his sweatpants.

“Yes, sugar plum?” Richie’s voice was low as he spoke into the hollow of Eddie’s throat.

“God, Richie, put your fucking hands on me.” Eddie snapped, pushing back so he could shrug his blazer off and whip it onto the floor.

“My my, Edward, don’t you know that’ll make your garment wrinkle?” Richie drawled lowly.

“Like you care,” Eddie grumbled, fumbling to unknot his tie.

“Leave it.” Richie whispered, grabbing hold of Eddie’s tie and yanking him forward until their lips crashed together, gripping the silky fabric tightly.

Eddie moved to untie the drawstring on Richie’s pants as they kissed, tongues pushing back into each other’s mouths. Richie tasted like Sprite, and he’d no doubt been drinking it all day despite the fact that Eddie kept trying to get him to cut back on his sugar intake. Richie moaned as Eddie yanked his sweatpants down to his mid-thighs, exposing the top of his boxers, the materiel dotted with little dogs doing handstands.

“Rich,” Eddie whispered, rolling his hips forward to grind their erections together through the layers of fabric.

“Can I tie you up?” Richie asked, tugging lightly on Eddie’s tie.

“Not with this one,” Eddie shook his head. “Mike and Bill gave it to me for Christmas and I don’t want to ruin it.”

“What about that one I bought you that you hate?” Richie slid his free hand down Eddie’s torso, fiddling with the buttons of his work shirt. “The one with the porcupines on it?”

“I don’t _hate_ that one,” Eddie grumbled, even though he did hate it. He thought he was going to vomit when he’d pulled the fucking thing out of the gift bag two Hanukkah’s ago. It was bright blue with little porcupines in swim trunks and beach floaties on it. He hadn’t worn it once, as it was hideously ugly. But he refused to throw it away, because he didn’t like to give Richie the satisfaction.

“You’re such a liar,” Richie snickered, releasing Eddie’s tie and reaching around to slap his ass. “Go get the tie that you hate and wait on the bed for me.”

“You’re very bossy today,” Eddie remarked, the domineering tone of Richie’s voice making his cock twitch in his pants.

“You love it,” Richie replied, eyes following Eddie’s movements as he bent down to collect his blazer from the floor. He leaned back in his wheelie-chair and stretched his long arms over his head, popping his shoulder joints.

“I’m not complaining.” Eddie agreed. “Are you planning on joining me in the bedroom?”

Richie shrugged nonchalantly, spinning in his chair to look back at his laptop. “Maybe in a little while. I’ll see how I’m feeling.” Eddie rolled his eyes, knowing full well that Richie would be in the bedroom within the next few minutes. He could never hold off as long as he insisted he could. “Take your clothes off while you wait for me.” He waved dismissively over his shoulder, pretending to be suddenly super interested in his work.

“Yes, sir.” Eddie leaned over to kiss Richie’s cheek, whispering directly into his ear before ghosting his teeth over Richie’s earlobe. Richie visibly shuddered, letting out a sharp breath, and Eddie counted that as a win as he retreated back to their bedroom to wait.

***

The tie that he hated was crammed all the way in the back of the drawer, rolled up tightly so he wouldn’t ever have to look at it, and almost completely covered by the last tie his mother had given him; red with navy boats on it. He also never wore that one, but not because he thought it was ugly. Because he hated thinking about his mother.

He grabbed the hideous little strip of fabric and slid it between his fingers, feeling the silky material. He had no idea how much Richie had spent on it, but it did feel pretty expensive, and Richie did usually like to buy him designer presents, so he figured it was safe to assume that it was on the higher end of the price range they’d set for one another.

Eddie stripped the remainder of his clothes off, walking them into the closet and tossing them neatly in the hamper before returning to the bedroom and climbing into the center of their bed.

He could hear Richie pretending to work through the wall, needlessly clicking away on one key while he tried to bide his time. He usually hit the space button or the enter key over and over again before relenting and going to the bedroom.

Eddie counted out a pathetic 17 seconds before he heard Richie’s laptop click shut and the wheelie chair slide across the floor. He tried to wipe the smirk off his face as Richie’s footsteps continued down the hall.

“Afternoon,” Eddie greeted him as he slipped into the bedroom, shutting the door behind himself.

“Fancy meeting you here.” Richie replied, eyes sweeping over Eddie’s body as he settled onto the bed. He held his hands out and Eddie quickly moved to hand over the tie. “I don’t know why you hate this so much.”

“First of all, I don’t, and second of all, it’s tacky.” Eddie watched as Richie twirled the tie between his hands, chuckling softly to himself.

“It’s one of a kind, baby.” Richie raised his eyebrows, holding up the tie.

“Like Quasimodo.” Eddie dropped his hands back against the headboard and waited while Richie leaned forward to knot the tie around them.

“Or the Mona Lisa.” Richie tugged lightly on Eddie’s forearms to test the strength of the knot.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Eddie mumbled, watching as Richie sat back on his haunches, eyes locked on Eddie’s wrists as he twisted in his restraints.

“You know damn well that I would.”

“The lengths you’ll go to for a joke have never ceased to amaze me, Richard.” Eddie licked his lips, following Richie’s movements as he pushed himself off the bed and unzipped his hoodie. “I’m surprised you never actually fucked my mother.”

Richie laughed, tossing his hoodie onto the floor and shoving his pants and boxers down to pool around his feet. “That right there was my limit, my little chickadee.” He stroked slowly over his cock a few times, thumbing lightly at the head. “Besides, you’re the only Kaspbrak for me, baby.”

“Be still my beating heart,” Eddie smiled at Richie as he climbed back up on the bed. “I love you,”

“I love you too,” Richie pushed his glasses back up and traced a finger down the center of Eddie’s stomach, watching his muscles twitch. “God, I love the way you look like this.”

“I can tell,” Eddie jutted his chin towards Richie’s cock, hard and dripping onto his tummy hair.

Richie grinned and winked at him. “You do things to me, Eddie, I can’t explain it.” He slid back on the bed so he could lay down properly, tracing patterns over the top of Eddie’s leg. “It was growing up with you, I think. You crossed my wires, baby.” He dragged his nails over Eddie’s left thigh, leaving little red scratches in his wake.

“What is with you and my thighs?” Eddie laughed breathlessly, hands tugging at his restraints as Richie moved to bite a mark into the flesh on his thighs.

“It was those fucking running shorts.” Richie mumbled, sweeping his hair back from his face and licking a straight line up the length of Eddie’s leg. “Every fucking day with those things, Eddie. It’s like you wanted me to cream my pants every time I saw you.”

Eddie laughed again, leaning back against his pillow. “It’s just what my mother bought for me. I didn’t really have a choice.”

“I guess I should be thanking Sonia, then.” Richie drew his hand back and landed a sharp slap on the inside of Eddie’s thigh, eyes darkening as he watched a red mark bloom on the pale skin.

“Fuck, Rich.”

“You always looked so good, Eddie, fuck. It’s no wonder I turned out gay, I spent me entire childhood watching you prance around in those fucking ball-crawlers and climb all over me every chance you got, like I was your fucking jungle gym.” Richie bit another mark into Eddie’s leg. “I used to touch myself thinking about you, baby.”

“Rich,” Eddie whined, lifting his hips off the bed to try and grind against Richie’s chest, but he pulled back, shaking his head when they made eye contact.

“Be good.” He said softly, tracing the tips of his fingers straight up the side of Eddie’s calf.

“I am,” Eddie grumbled, twisting his wrists. He was starting to hate the tie less. It was still horrendously hideous, but the material was soft and smooth, so it didn’t hurt his hands or cut off his circulation when he yanked on it.

“Mhm,” Richie hummed, running his flat palms down Eddie’s thighs and back up again, pushing the coarse hair there against the grain before taking hold of Eddie’s hips and squeezing. “Can I fuck you?”

Eddie snorted, tipping his chin down to look at Richie. “You weren’t planning on it?”

He shrugged and sat up, lightly pinching Eddie’s left nipple as he leaned over to grab their lube. “I was.” He popped the lube open and poured a generous amount over his fingers. “I just wanted to make sure you were ok with it first.”

Eddie snickered softly, rolling his eyes. That was his Richie, always so sweet and considerate, even when he had Eddie literally tied up and essentially laid out on a silver platter for him. “Nothing would make me happier right now than you fucking me.”

Richie grinned and winked at him, lightly tapping Eddie’s knee with his dry hand to encourage him to spread his legs. “Then I’d better hop to it, bunny rabbit.”

Eddie sighed, mildly annoyed by the nickname but way too turned on to outwardly protest. Richie had been teasing him for a while now, and he was throbbing with need, desperate for Richie to do something to move shit along.

Richie loved to take his time, working Eddie open gently, one finger at a time, while slowly rubbing circles into his hip with the other hand. He was pretty careful when it came to handling Eddie, especially during sex, and Eddie was pretty sure that was left over nerves from when Eddie had almost died, and when he was still in the hospital healing.

Eddie appreciated it just as much then as he did now, and it made his heart swell with love. Love for his Richie, his sweet, stupid boyfriend that was always so caring and gentle. That was always so loving and soft. His Richie that loved him so much that it compelled him to call him things like Sweetheart or Lovey. Baby and Hon. Eddie Spaghetti and Eddie My Love. And Eddie realized then that maybe he didn’t hate the nicknames so much. Sure, they were a little irritating from time to time, but it was just Richie’s way of showing his affection for the man he’d been in love with since he was a kid. No one loved as deeply as Richie Tozier, and that was just his way of expressing it.

“Eds, you ok?” Richie frowned up at him, easing his hand out as he studied Eddie’s face. “Am I hurting you?”

“No, no.” Eddie shook his head, clearing his throat. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”

Richie nodded like he understood. “About how much you love the tie and how you’re gonna wear it every day now?”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “No, you colossal fucking idiot.” He kicked him lightly in the ribs with his heel. “About you. And how much I love you.”

Richie tried to hide his watery smile, but Eddie saw it, just like he saw the cherry blush spread over his cheeks. They knew each other too well to hide any of their emotions. The hazards of dating someone you spent your entire childhood attached to, Eddie supposed.

“Cut the waterworks, Rich, don’t turn this into something sappy.” Eddie teased, watching Richie blink tears away.

“Oh my god, you started it.” Richie accused, pushing his glasses up into his hair and wiping at his eyes with his wrist. “You can’t just say shit like that to me, you know I’m sensitive.”

“My little bleeding heart,” Eddie cooed.

“Shut up,” Richie grumbled, blowing out a breath of air while he settled himself between Eddie’s spread legs, splaying Eddie’s thighs over his own and gripping his cock by the base. “Ready?”

“Mhm,” Eddie nodded, wishing that his hands were free so he could pull Richie down into a kiss.

Lucky for him, they seemed to be on the same wavelength (as they almost always were), and Richie leaned forward to seal their lips together as he bottomed out.

“Fuck, Eds.” Richie breathed, pressing their foreheads together.

“Rich,”

“Baby, you’re so tight.” He sighed, shifting forward to grind against Eddie’s prostate, and kissing his temple softly.

“Richie,” Eddie whimpered, warm pleasure traveling up from the pit of his stomach, all the way to the roots of his hair.

“Oh my god, Eddie, baby, you feel so good.” Richie pulled back slightly to brace one of his hands on the headboard, gripping the wood tightly in his large hand, while the other hand held Eddie’s hip firmly, keeping him in place as he built up a slow pace, thrusting in and out.

Eddie closed his eyes and dropped his head back against the pillows, allowing the force of Richie’s thrusts to jostle him against the mattress.

“Oh, Eddie, you’re so beautiful.” Richie said softly, almost like he was saying to himself, as if Eddie wasn’t even there. He leaned forward and buried his face in Eddie’s neck, sucking at the skin just above his shoulder. “Fuck, you’re so gorgeous, baby.”

“Richie,”

“I love you,” Richie bit a mark under Eddie’s Adam’s apple, soothing the new indentations with his tongue. “I’m so close.”

“Untie me,” Eddie whispered, pulling on his restraints. He wanted to hold Richie back, touch him, pull on his hair. “Rich, my hands—”

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” Richie pulled away for a second, hands scrabbling quickly to loosen the knot before whipping the tie clear across the room. “Eddie,”

“Come here,” Eddie sat up quickly, careful not to let Richie slip out as he grabbed him around the neck and smashed their lips together, licking at him sloppily as they panted into each other’s mouths. “Mm,” Eddie slid his fingers up into Richie’s sweaty hair, yanking sharply on his curls.

“Turn over,” Richie pulled out for second to flip Eddie onto his stomach, situating him on his hands and knees before pushing back in and resuming his thrusting. “God, Eds, fuck.” He grunted, wrapping his arm around Eddie’s chest and laying his cheek against the skin between Eddie’s shoulder blades. “You’re so beautiful, fuck, you’re so amazing, I love you, I love you—”

Eddie barely managed to whisper, “Rich,” before he came, hanging his head between his forearms as he released into the bedsheets, clenching down around Richie inside of him.

Richie wasn’t far behind, sucking a dark bruise onto Eddie’s shoulder as his hips kicked forward a few more times, mumbling Eddie’s name like a prayer.

Eddie lowered himself down from his elbows so he was laying on his chest on the bed, wrinkling up his nose as his skin came in contact with the cooling semen on the bedding. “Motherfucker, I just changed these sheets.” He complained, turning his face in an attempt to glare at Richie.

“Don’t give me that look,” Richie said between panting breaths. “My mess is contained, honey boy.” He lightly patted the back of Eddie’s thigh before moving to slip out. “You’re the one that finished all over the bed.” He flopped on his back next to Eddie, raking his hand through his hair and tossing his glasses onto his nightstand. Eddie continued to glare at him until Richie cracked an eye open. “Careful, honeypot, your face is gonna stick like that.” He grinned, blindly reaching over to try and pull Eddie into his side.

“What did I tell you about the nicknames?” Eddie flicked him between the eyes.

Richie stuck out his bottom lip, pouting as if he was 13 and not 41. “And here I was thinking you loved me. How could I have been so mistaken?” He began to fake cry again, taking big gasping breaths and letting out loud, ‘boo hoo hoo!’s every few seconds until Eddie clamped a hand over his mouth.

“I’ll make you a deal,” He said, to which Richie raised his eyebrows. “You change the sheets so I don’t have to, and you can call me all the nicknames you want.”

“Forever?” Richie asked, voice muffled by Eddie’s palm.

“For now,” Eddie allowed, unable to help the smile that crept onto his lips as Richie’s entire face lit up. He surged forward and sealed their lips together, startling a quiet, “Hmph!” from Eddie when their mouths met.

“I knew you loved me.” Richie smiled into their kiss.

“Lord knows why,” Eddie mumbled, pulling Richie in again as he went to move away. Because the truth was that he did love Richie. Every stupid fucking thing he did. And maybe he did love the nicknames. But he was more than happy to keep that secret to himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me anywhere! My handle for everything is @rauqthetommo! Feel free to ask me questions at all on my tumblr!


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